


I Won't

by vwright



Category: Ylvis
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vwright/pseuds/vwright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vegard can't sit around and watch his brother flirt with fans anymore, and it dredges up old wounds between the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The events, characters, and entities depicted in this work are fictional. Any resemblance or similarity to any actual events, entities, or persons, whether living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

It's Oslo, then New York, then Oslo again and back. It's fucking exhausting is what it is, but Vegard's brother finds it in him to still have some fun.

They're being interviewed, one reporter after another in the hotel lobby. Vegard answers politely, engaged as he possibly can be while still checking his phone every 3 minutes. He's tired--beyond tired--overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work they have to do at home and while in New York. He doesn't know how Bård manages to keep his good mood. Usually it's the other way around, Bård's smile slipping as soon as the cameras turn away, but this time Vegard just wants to go back to their hotel room and sleep for a thousand years.  

When she walks in, he can see his brother shift. He straightens his back and runs a hand through his hair. She's pretty, but she looks terribly young. Can she even really be a reporter at that age? Maybe he's being presumptuous, about the girl and Bård's fairly obvious attraction to her, but something tells him he isn't. A slow sigh hisses from his nostrils as he calms the bubbling irritation that threatens to overtake him. 

She introduces herself, definitely an adult and definitely a reporter, but just barely. She smiles wide and stutters her words occasionally, making eyes at Bård who stares her down with that smile of his. Vegard wants to slap him. He can tell she's a fan, just based off the questions she asks. Bård notices too and opens it up for a conversation nothing to do with the questions written on the paper in her hand. He won't stop looking in her eyes, but Vegard knows he's really looking all over. He's checking her out, from her petite waist to her full chest, and enjoying every moment of it.

Vegard doesn't want to seem rude. That's how it always seems when Bård takes over the conversation, but something else makes him want to avoid speaking to this girl at all costs. She, and the way Bård is regarding her, are making him feel a level of unease he'd rather not look into. Bård isn't really doing anything, no, but what he is doing Vegard wants him to stop, immediately.

To his great relief, the next reporter, a Norwegian who is fairly pushy with patriotic entitlement, interrupts the interview, alerting them that their time is up and he'd like to get on with his interview if he could. 

The girl looks embarrassed, apologetic, and turns off her microphone in haste. Bård scoops her into a tight hug, pressing his whole body against hers. When they let go, her gaze wanders over to Vegard awkwardly, and she gives him a sweet smile and hugs him as well. Both their bodies are rigid and distant, and Vegard is glad it ends as quickly as it begins.

Bård waves goodbye to her, watching her back as she walks to the door.

"She was something, huh?" Bård says, mostly to himself. Vegard doesn't have time to reprimand his brother before the pushy Norwegian launches them into the next interview.

\--

No, Vegard did not want to drink, no, he didn't want to be at a crowded bar at 10:30 pm, but Bård wanted to, and so they were. Vegard regrets it the moment they walk in, but his brother pulls him along by the arm, telling him not to be such a fucking downer. 

Bård buys him a drink, at the very least, and Vegard takes a seat next to him at the bar. He orders a martini, causing Bård to tut as he downs his shot and slams it on the counter. Vegard chuckles despite himself at the satisfied 'ahh' Bård makes. Bård settles himself on the stool, swiveling toward Vegard. Their knees knock together as he rocks back and forth, a glassy grin finding its way to Bård's face.

"Ask me about something," Bård says.

"What?" For all he knows his brother, sometimes he really has no idea what he's talking about.

"Tell me about something boring, or quiz me about something I don't know the answers to."

"Why?"

"Because you're being all gloomy and you get off on shit like that. Just go ahead. I'm sure you've been dying to tell me about the plane we came over here in." Heat blooms in Vegard's chest and he darts his eyes to Bård's, an innocent smile on his lips.

Of course Vegard indulges, because it's true, he had been wanting to talk about the plane on the way over, or rather, how they should fly a different airline next time. It shifts to Vegard quizzing him about airplane anatomy, Bård playing along without any whining or hesitation. Maybe it's the alcohol slowly fogging his brain, but he feels lighter than he has the whole trip.

Bård laughs too hard at something that Vegard says, throwing his head into his hands, racked with laughter. Vegard laughs back at his stupidity, and when Bård lifts his head he sees something that cuts his voice and erases the smile from his face.

"Holy shit, is that her?"

Vegard turns to see the girl from earlier with a friend of hers, equally young and lovely entering the bar. When he turns back to his brother he's already standing and waving his hand at them. She spots him and covers her mouth with her hand, whispering to her friend beside her. The two make their way to Bård and he meets them halfway.

"Ladies, lovely to see you again. Please, join us." They giggle and take their seats on the other side of Bård, and like that he turns his body and attention away. It's a sobering moment. 

Bård buys them both drinks, and then more, and then some more. Vegard counts five shots in his brother's system after an hour and a half and the girls only get friendlier, touchier. Vegard isn't watching, his eyes are glued to the phone in his palm, but he listens to every word his brother utters to the increasingly intoxicated girls beside him. 

They laugh about the innocuous topic of binge drinking, and Bård lets his game slip for just a moment.

"Oh god, my wife hates it when I come home drunk. I seriously have to watch out, I don't know what she's capable of."

"Oh, you're married?" The girls seem puzzled, but not altogether deterred.  

 _Yes Bård, you're married_. It's a fact Vegard reminds himself every day. He wishes his brother would take better note. 

It's not like this is new for Bård. Since the day he realized he was cute, and that he could charm people (which was from about the age of six), he used it to his full advantage. Even when he didn't want something, he'd use his prowess to see if he could get it if he did. Vegard is reminded of the countless times he's been a victim to his charm, how many times he couldn't refuse his brother something no matter how much he wanted to say no. Bård never had that problem. He's always been good at saying no. Vegard looks at his brother, balancing uneasy on his drunken legs. He wants to leave, leave him there to make all the mistakes he wants, but he doesn't. Things are different. They've been different for a long time but it doesn't make it any easier in times like this.

Eventually the girls leave, despite Bård's bribes of alcohol and a limo ride to wherever they're staying. He makes sure to hug them both before they leave, hands far too low on their backs to be mistaken for anything else. Vegard orders another shot while his brother is preoccupied and swallows it quickly before he notices. With a brusque grip he pulls Bård from the bar and piles him into a cab back to their hotel. 

\-- 

Bård won't stop talking the whole elevator ride up. If he's this drunk, Vegard will have to put him to bed because he'll be drooling all over himself in an hour or less. He opens their door with more difficulty than he'd like--hand slipping twice before getting the keycard in just right--and guides Bård with hands on his shoulders into the room. He deposits him onto the nearest bed and Bård flops back with dead weight.

He's barely listening to Bård, rambling about something music related, and decides to unpack his things as a distraction. They still have two more days in New York. Two long days filled with interviews and photo shoots and constant contact with his brother. Most days it would be fine enough, but a current of irritation runs through Vegard that he can't quell.

"...Really, we should go to another bar tomorrow. We need to order one of those nacho plates. Did you see them, Vegard?" Vegard walks into the bathroom, taking his bag of toiletries with him and placing items along the sink. He knows his brother will continue whether he answers or not.

"They were massive. Just one could feed a small African tribe. Everything is so big here. Big and awesome. I want one of everything. Don't you, Vegard? Huh? Vegard?" He places his toothbrush and toothpaste to the side of the sink. He remembers that Bård had called home just a few hours before their interviews. He talked to each one of his children, and his wife, told them all he loved them dearly. And he does, it's true. That fact never ever changes. No matter what Bård does or decides.

" _Vegaaard_." He turns to his babbling brother and gives him a look of sheer displeasure. "Wait, what was I asking you? Never mind, I can't remember." Vegard turns back to his bag, trying his best to drown out the rest of his rambling. 

"And _those girls_. Holy shit were they good. It's the little things, really--" Vegard slams down a jar of pomade, sounding a loud smack through their room. Bård sits up to see the noise, and Vegard can only see his form from the periphery in the mirror in front of him. He can't turn around, the anger coursing through him is too unstable to let go. 

"What? What are you pissy about?" Vegard breathes through his nose, fluttering his eyes as he tries to contain himself. "What, the girl? Jesus christ, you can't be serious."

"You're married." Vegard hisses it low, anger brewing in his stomach.

"I didn't  _do_  anything. Can't I appreciate a fine girl once in a while?" Vegard looks at his brother through the mirror, finding blue eyes already staring straight at him  in his reflection.

"You made a commitment."

"And I've kept it. I'm not hurting anyone." He's so defensive, doesn't even see what he's done wrong. Vegard turns on his heel, facing Bård. There's no remorse on his face, only irritation. Vegard wants to hurt him, but isn't sure how. 

"I can't imagine that Maria would be too pleased."

"Would you calm down? Who's going to tell her, you?" Vegard walks to him and stands towering over his brother. Bård looks up, the challenge clear in his expression.

"Maybe I will."

"Are you kidding me? What's wrong with you?"

Vegard can't speak. He knows what he wants to say, what he's going to say, but he's afraid of what will ensue. He knows somewhere that once he tells Bård, he won't be able to stop. All pretense that things were "okay" will be gone. But he was barely able to keep it up anyway. The busier they got, the more they were together. And the more they were together, the worse things got.

"Huh? I'm serious, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You chose!" Vegard explodes. "You made a choice." Bård's face shows he doesn't understand. Out of drunkenness or genuine ignorance, Vegard can't tell.

"Chose what? Chose who?"

"You chose _her_!" Bård goes quiet. Now he understands. He doesn't need any extra explanation, but Vegard keeps talking, unable to stop himself. Maybe the liquor is more in control of him than he thought. "You chose her...over me." 

Bård's eyes dart down. He's embarrassed, Vegard can tell, his cheeks blush that rosy peach and he sucks in his bottom lip. But it won't stop him. He was right when he thought the floodgates would open.

"You chose someone else, fine. But fucking stick to it, would you?" Bård doesn't say anything. What could he, Vegard thinks. He's satisfied that he's driven his point home when Bård pipes up with a voice full of resentment.

"What about you? You're married too, you have a family."

"And I was fine with that! You're the one who said you couldn't do both." He can't believe he even tried to argue that. After everything, after all he begged and tried, compromised, bargained, Bård was always the one who said no. Bård opens his mouth, but then closes it. "Or is that just what you told me?" Vegard tries to withhold his insecure accusations, but his anger, suppressed for so long and the remnants of alcohol running through his bloodstream couldn't care less.

Bård sits, silent, eyes on the floor. Vegard feels vindicated in the most sickening way possible.

"I'm sorry--"

"I don't want to hear it." His voice is low, defeated. He doesn't know what he expected out of this. "Go ahead, cheat on your wife, fuck some young girl, I don't care. Just don't tell me about it; I can't stand here and listen to you be more of a hypocrite than you already are." 

Vegard still stands over Bård, who still sits on the bed. Nothing changes. He's furious, blood thrumming in him, but he can't move away. The tension between them and their hearts racing is too much to tear himself away from. He can feel it radiating from Bård, and it reminds him how they used to fight. Heated, full of care and desires, instead of the cautious resign they have when arguing these days. Vegard misses the sting.

Then, Bård reaches out his hand and grabs Vegard's. Vegard looks down, saying nothing, feeling so much, but doesn't stop him. Bård is looking up at him, into his brother's eyes, but Vegard avoids them--just a bit. Bård kisses his hand, and the affection is too much for Vegard to bear. He remembers; Bård used to do this all the time. Driving in the car, beside him in the kitchen, at night before bed. Bringing it back in the situation they're in, it feels nauseating. He rips his hand out of his grasp.

"Don't, Bård, just don't. Don't act like you want me if you don't."

Vegard turns his back on him but Bård follows, grabbing his shoulder rough and turning him back around. Bård pulls his brother close, and his face is there-- blue eyes, the same ones he'd always known, hooded and intent stare back into his own. Bård leads his lips over his brother's, breath entering his mouth as he speaks his words, slow, calculated, and laden with lust.

"I want you."

Vegard inhales sharp and freezes, heart hammering in his chest. He wants it, he wants him, but he knows the utter mess he'll be in when it's over. When they're done and Bård remembers how he really feels. Unaware of his brother's silent battle, Bård takes his immobility as a signal to continue. He presses into him, mouth covering his brother's. If memory serves him correctly, this is where Bård gets aggressive: he will start to move his mouth and slide his hands up his shirt, but he doesn't. They stand there, connected, lungs stilled, and Vegard is startled by the tenderness in it. Vegard exhales and it's like Bård was waiting for him to do so, waiting for him to succumb. Bård's hands trail up his side, and Vegard figures old habits die hard--his mouth starts to move and Vegard so wants to open up for him, let him take over and settle into the ease they always were. But then Vegard remembers, and pulls away.

"Don't say that if you don't mean it."

Bård takes a moment to look into his brother's eyes and Vegard can't tell what he sees. Bård raises his hands to either side of his face, thumb lightly stroking his cheek just beneath his eye. He brings his forehead to his and whispers over his lips.

"I want you."

Vegard closes his eyes, saying fuck it to his better judgment. Bård is the first to close the gap but Vegard is quick to take over, pushing Bård back toward the bed.

It's so easy. It's so easy to get lost in his brother's scent, in the greedy way he demands more and more with each fevered kiss. Vegard straddles him and goes to work on his neck, then his collar bones, until he pauses to pull the shirt off his brother's form. He doesn't get far after that before Bård captures his mouth again, sitting up in the bed. He brings his hand to the side of Vegard's face and tilts his head back, lavishing his brother with years of quashed wants and daydreams. Vegard has had nightmares like this, where he holds Bård so close, the two indulging in everything they promised they'd never tell another soul, all the while Bård whispers to him _go go go get out_ from under his breath. Vegard knows this is real because Bård murmurs _Come here_ into his ear before flipping their positions and shoving him back onto the bed. 

Bård unbuttons his shirt, trailing his mouth down as he does, eventually moving down to his jeans that he hastily undoes. Vegard helps kick them off, breathing shaky breaths all the while. He knows what comes next, but is still surprised when he's reunited with his brother's mouth anywhere but his own.

He wants to enjoy it, and he does, the tiny noises coming from his brother's mouth as he works him like no time has passed at all, but Vegard's mind butts in, plaguing him with questions of necessity. 

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, voice breathier than he would like. Bård pulls off for a moment to silence him.

"Shh." He uses his hand again before lowering his mouth. Vegard whimpers and bucks his hips, then swallows hard. He wishes Bård could just tell him what he wants to hear.

"I know you don't love me anymore." Bård pauses his movement, gripping his brother's hips and holding them down against the bed.

"Shut up." Vegard thinks of those hands on the small of the girl's back, his fingers teasing his lips as he stared at her chest.

"If you did you wouldn't do that to me. In front of me."

"I said, shut up." Bård makes eye contact before pushing down, breaking Vegard's pitying train of thought. He picks up a pace that whites out nearly everything, Vegard's eyes fallen shut, and just as he's about to let go, Bård backs off, sitting upright again.  

Vegard looks to Bård who removes the rest of his clothes, pulse racing and lungs heaving for the close call. He watches Bård, who watches him back, taking his time. When he opens his mouth to beg him to hurry, Bård crashes down on him again, mouth needy against his.

They lay side by side, feeling one another from head to toe. Vegard basks in the feeling of it, quieting his mind for the time being and reminding himself how to enjoy it. He pushes his leg between Bård's and nudges, beginning a rhythm of rutting that drives Bård wild. He pushes back in earnest, mouth going to Vegard's shoulder, biting a little harder with each thrust. It'll leave a mark. Vegard rewards him with a hand between them, stroking achingly slow.

This is the part where Vegard would take him, back when being together wasn't just a product of inebriated vulnerability and lost time. He senses Bård's restraint, the pointed waiting in the way he moves, trying to hold himself in. Vegard moves his hand at an uneven pace, fast and slow, nudging his brother's face with his nose.

"Do you want it?"

"Fucking come on, already, Vegard." He's irritated, not wanting to play Vegard's game, but torturing him is half the fun.

"Do you want me?" Vegard asks again, slowing his motions. Bård grits his teeth and huffs his breath. He tries to meet his eyes but Bård avoids them just barely. 

"Yes, yes I want you. Just fuck me already, god I can't stand it." Impatience, a typical behavior of Bård's. Vegard wonders how he could have ever forgotten.

They know how to do it. It's not something you can really forget. Vegard couldn't, anyway. Every time he came, with or without anyone else, it was memories of his brother that flooded his system--his face, his glazed over eyes, damp hair, flexing muscles--taking him over the edge no matter how hard he tried to suppress them.  

He starts slow, agonizing groans slipping from Bård's mouth as he adjusts. He hasn't done this in a long time, and in a way Vegard is glad at least there was no one else but him who could do this to his brother. Who can make him become so undone that he can't even speak properly, just incoherent noises slipping from his parted mouth. It isn't any better than before, it's exactly the same, but it's enough. It's enough to make Vegard happy for the rest of his life, if his brother would let him. He won't, Vegard knows he won't. He thrusts in harder this time, eliciting a choked gasp from Bård. 

"Tell me you love me," Vegard says, leaning down close to his ear.

Bård doesn't respond, too lost, breath panting hard and heavy. Or maybe he's not too lost, maybe he's ignoring it. Vegard doesn't care about the desperation, about his vulnerability; Bård just feels so good beneath him--writhing, whimpering, free--and the deepest part of Vegard needs the validation, the proof. 

"Say it. Say you love me."

Bård shuts his eyes tight, making a drawn out sound, opening his mouth wide like a silent scream. Vegard knows it's the voiceless request to help him;  _please just help me please please please_ , he says with his labored silence. Vegard throws his head against Bård's shoulder; tears are gathering in his eyes and he drives harder into him. He reaches down, and grants Bård's wish with a few deft strokes of his palm. Bård whispers his brother's name against the pleasure that sounds more like pain, and finishes out loud.

He can feel Bård's pulse jolting through his whole body, and his eyes look lost like he remembers. Vegard renews his forces with a newfound fury, and takes no time at all in finding completion within his brother.

He rolls off him, an ache in his chest quickly replacing the euphoria that just washed through him. They say nothing. Vegard grabs at his hand, needing the contact. Bård's hand is limp, and his fingers twitch slightly when Vegard brings it between them.

Bård is exhausted, eyes closed and breath slowing down; he's practically already asleep. Vegard doesn't know if Bård allows him to gather him close and bury his nose in his hair because he wants it or if he's not even aware. He hates himself for hoping that it's different, that Bård meant what he said--even meant the things he wouldn't say. Vegard doesn't know how Bård could fall out of love with him, because if he knew a way, he would love to hear it. God knows he tried.

 

In the morning, Vegard is alone. He isn't surprised, or scared, he just breathes; he reaches his arm out to the other side of the bed, feeling for any traces of warmth. There are none. His hand brushes against something harsh, and grabbing at it he pulls to him a note; it's written on a piece of paper with the hotel's name on the top. An explanation. That's new. 

 

The note simply reads,

_I want you. But I won't._

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly consider this 'part two' as optional. In general the story would be more artful if it were a oneshot, but if you just can't live with the angsty feels then read on--things near a resolution.

Vegard receives a text message from their manager saying their only TV interview for the day has been canceled. He hears Bård's phone beep on the side table at the same time as his. Vegard has been awake for two hours and fighting every bodily urge to get the fuck out of there and find his brother. He knows too well that when Bård doesn't want to be found, he won't be, so going out into the rushing city full of foreign faces would be only to distract his mind. He does it anyway; it drives him mad regardless.

He tries the hotel bar first, but realizes that 1pm is probably a little too early for Bård even. Despite the vastness of New York, there aren't many places to actually go. There's central park, which he wanders around for an hour or so, exploring its grand scale and his brother's pointed absence. The wind picks up and Vegard finds it in himself to be angry. Every step and barely retraced memory from the night before stirs the coals inside his gut a little more. He hates how fucking right he feels now, despite Bård's assertion that he wasn't. Or maybe that's not what he meant when he said 'I want you.' He never did really say anything else.

Vegard wonders if the interview hadn't been canceled, if Bård would have shown up at all. So fucking unprofessional, he thinks. For as much as Bård is obviously accusing him of being too emotional and affected, his brother is surely letting it get to him more than Vegard. He'd like to think that anyway, that Bård is wandering around somewhere tortured and guilt-ridden, running from his feelings. But it pisses him off to know that more than likely, he had only left so he wouldn't have to deal with Vegard in the morning. Coward. Bård could silently tell him that he wouldn't do it, cut his brother once again without facing the consequences of their actions--which were mutual, definitely fucking mutual. The fact that Bård ever made him question if it was makes him sick. 

 _I want you, but I won't_. What kind of fucking explanation is that? He tries to decide if it's in line with the last reason Bård gave him for leaving. All he really said was that he couldn't keep doing it to her. But of course he had no problem doing it to his brother, flaunting his happiness with someone else in his face every opportunity he got. If Bård thought that's all it was going to take, if he thinks he can just shake off his brother with six fucking words, then he has another thing coming. Accountability is high on Vegard's list of things he's going to explain to Bård when he finds him--among other things, like respect and how to not be the most selfish man in the entire world.   

Vegard looks at his phone at 2:15 and just sort of knows that Bård is back. He's always been a good gauge of this brother's temper, and if his judgment is correct, it will have been enough time for Bård to crawl out from whatever rock he hid under. He passes the hotel bar on the way to the elevator and back tracks at the dark blond head he spots at the bar. 

He isn't alone. There's a woman sitting beside him, probably the same age as Bård. She isn't his type, Vegard knows, a little too curvy and a little too tan. When Bård looks for women he makes sure they look as different from his brother as they possibly can. Not to mention she's forward, and Bård likes his girls to be a bit of a challenge. Maybe that's where Vegard always failed him. Bård minimally reciprocates her conversation, body turned away from the woman and eyes boring into the glass in his hands. By the looks of it he hasn't even taken a drink. Vegard boils at her glistening smile, burns at the feigned one on Bård's face. His brother would rather sit in a situation that Vegard knows makes him thoroughly uncomfortable rather than come back to him--to face him, to at least give him an honest answer why. And when he says he wants  _him_ , what does he really want, anyway? Because if Vegard storming up to his brother and wrenching his shoulder back in public isn't a sign that he has him, then Vegard doesn't know what is. 

Bård seems actually surprised. The woman beside him looks like she's regretting ever starting the conversation by the way she reacts to Vegard's face. He wonders how furious he must actually look--he knows he feels it, anyway. Vegard's hand lingers longer on Bård's shoulder than he would like. When it slips off, he clears his throat before issuing his command.

"Let's go."

"I thought you were at the interview," Bård defends. He doesn't seem remorseful, he just seems annoyed at the intrusion.

"It was canceled. Not that you would know." Bård turns his head back to his glass in response and lifts it to his mouth. "Let's go," Vegard repeats.

"Where? And for what?" He clinks the glass down lazily on the counter like a challenge--one that Vegard is more than willing to meet.

"I can talk about it right here, I don't fucking care anymore." The woman gets up and leaves them, an awkward expression painting her face. "It's up to you." They stare at one another for a few moments until Bård decides not to call his bluff. Vegard doesn't really know if he would have done it, but he's glad when his brother heads off to the elevator with Vegard a few steps behind.

 

 

Bård sits on the bed and Vegard hovers above him. He leans his hands back onto the mattress, a bored look shooting back at his brother. It reminds him of last night, but Vegard tries to push that out of his mind. Bård is becoming impatient, and Vegard knows he should start, but he can't help feeling like Bård should be the one explaining himself, not Vegard pulling it out of him. He sighs and rubs his knuckles over his mouth, wondering how to begin.

"What, Vegard?" Bård spits out. At least his bratty attitude is something to go off of.

"'What?' Really, that's what you're going with?" Bård doesn't appreciate the sarcasm and Vegard gets the smallest thrill from it.

"If you want to say something, then get on with it."

" _If I want to say something_ , god you're fucking infuriating." He has to admit, it's sort of frightening to finally ask him what he's been wanting to know for so long. The flurry of anger in his chest is what keeps him going. "Fine, I want to know why."

"Why what?"

"Why _anything_ , Bård. Why did you do this, why did you do last night?" Vegard tries not to yell but it can't be helped.

"Last night wasn't--"

"Did you miss me again, suddenly? Because you've made it very clear for the past six years that you don't."

"I haven't done anything that's--"

"Oh shut up, Bård, just shut the fuck up. I'm not going to let you get away with it anymore. You're going to tell me why, for everything, so let's start with last night." Bård glares somewhere in the direction of the bathroom, but his look isn't all there. "Hm? Or did you want to start from the beginning?"

"The beginning of what?"

"Oh, so we're going with full-on denial, then, I see. Do you need me to spell it out for you?" Vegard can feel it all coming out and Bård can't stop it, not even if he covered his mouth with his own and begged for forgiveness.

"I don't--"

"You were twenty, the first time. We were backstage and you told me you were scared of the way you felt."

"Vegard, stop--"

"You told me you loved me twenty-eight times--"

"I said, enou--"

"--and yes, I counted. Do you remember the last time you said it, Bård? Do you remember where we were? Do you remember what I said to you?"

"Shut up, I'm not--"

"Do you remember that I said I'd rather die than be without--"

"I fucking remember, Vegard!" Bård bellows over his brother. "Stop fucking talking, I remember. Just shut up about it, for fucks sake." There's something a little scary in Bård's eyes; Vegard would say he even looks haunted. Vegard doesn't give the memory particular significance, just pegs it down to another way Bård destroyed him, but it seems his brother remembers and wants very much to forget. 

"If you remember telling me you loved me, then tell me why you stopped." He keeps his voice even, the innate instinct to calm his brother emerging without his permission. Bård just looks away again, back on the defensive.

"I did tell you."

"I want the real reason, Bård. You clearly have enough room in your life to let your eye wander so don't give me that shit. Tell me why you stopped. Tell me _how_."

"What does it matter now? Why, after all these years, do you need to know now?" Vegard, caught up in the back and forth barely registers that Bård just admitted it had been a lie. 

"Because I never got a fucking answer."

"You seemed fine to leave it as it was the last time." And at that Bård actually seems bitter. Memories of standing shell shocked in a park, watching Bård walk away without him call back to Vegard. He can never forget the way his legs stopped working, and the biker that bumped into him while he stood in the middle of the pathway for at least ten minutes after he left. Bård has no right to bitterness or anger, that much Vegard knows. It sends a new pulse of fury through him; thick and slow it flows through his veins, permeating every cell inside him. He actually manages a laugh when his voice comes out low. 

"You thought I was fine?"

"You never said you weren't." Bård looks doubtful, though. Maybe it's one of those things Bård likes to let himself believe. Vegard won't let him, no, not anymore. Not after Bård decided to swim in the deep end once more and leave Vegard out in open water. He's sick of treading water and finished with Bård always keeping his lifeline out of reach. 

"You broke my fucking heart, Bård. You're still breaking it. Every time you look at me, every time you look at someone else. I would understand if it were _her_ , because that's what we agreed, that's what we allowed--"

"We're not playing by the same rules anymore, Vegard."

"--but when you treat it like it's a game, like nothing you do actually matters at all, that's when you're hurting me. Do you understand that? Do you do it on purpose? Do you do it just to see if I'll care or not?" Vegard has thought this several times, but never deigned to entertain it very long for how conceited it seemed.

"It has nothing to do with you. What happened with us is separate."

"Then what is it?" Bård doesn't answer. He looks caught between bursting out in defense again and walking out of the room. "Tell me why you ended it." He's daring his brother past where he should, but if there's anything he needs right now, it's not Bård's love, or devotion, or promises, it's a reason. "Look, I never asked for a real explanation before because I was too scared you were going to leave completely. But I'm asking now. So explain."

Bård looks like he's about to say it, Vegard can just tell. His shoulders slump and his eyes wander down as vulnerability washes over his expression. He parts his mouth and Vegard waits, feeling like he's waited his whole life to know--why he came, and why he left.

But then it's gone, and Bård's face hardens to something cruel. 

"We're not going to start this again, Vegard, you and I." Bård turns on him, eyes narrowing. Vegard feels like he's being backed into a wall even though his brother remains stationary. 

"I didn't ask you to--"

"How do you think this will work? Hm? Do you think no one's going to notice eventually?" All of Vegard's fire and determination start to dwindle to nothing. He hates the feeling that he's losing and sputters his response without much thought.

"How would they know?"

"God, Vegard, we're _seen_ now. We're seen all the time. It was stupid enough when we were young and just on the stage. Now it's everywhere. Do you not feel it?" And Vegard does feel it, he does feel the ever-present watching that his brother is referring to. Ever since they started their talk show, something changed. With success comes the expectation, the waiting for failure. Something like this, something like _them_ , would be perfect ammunition to destroy their lives irrevocably. But when Vegard thinks of what he'd rather have, sickening and potent love or all-encompassing shame, he knows right away what he would choose.

"If you really wanted it then we could find a way. Which, despite all your 'logistics' talk, you still haven't said you don't."

"You're fucking delusional." Bård shakes his head but he waited just a moment too long. Vegard knows he's gaining traction again.

"I'm using _your_ words. You told me you wanted it, you left me a fucking note for Christ's sake. If you really wanted me to forget about it you would have said nothing."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? I'd love to hear it."

"What does it matter? You just don't fucking get it."

"No, I don't get it, Bård. So explain it to me." There's nothing but silence from the man across from him. "I'm waiting." He taps his foot and when Bård's hair falls onto his face he knows he has him. The air around them changes and he can feel the admission welling up inside his brother.  

"I can't just _sometimes_ fuck you. I can't _sometimes_ be with you. It's more complicated than that, _life_ is more complicated than that. Once I start, I can't stop myself and I won't do that to you. I won't do that to them." 

Vegard struggles to understand what that means. His face doesn't look like it, but it still sounds like Bård is accusing him of something.

"I never asked you to leave them."

"But what if I ask _you_ to leave _them_?" Bård murmurs. He takes a second before looking into his brother's eyes and Vegard can't quite comprehend what he's saying.

"What? How--"

"I'm not like you. It doesn't just hurt when it's random girls, it's all the time. It's _her_. If we're together I don't want you to be with anyone else. I can't stand it. I know that's unfair, but I can't share you."

Vegard pauses and scrunches up his face, sadness and anger mixing. So he did it because he loved him? He ended it because his selfish little heart couldn't share one fucking part of his brother, one he agreed to share as well. In truth it was the kind of answer Vegard had secretly hoped for, instead of the hateful and apathetic answer that he feared, but hearing it in reality felt more unsatisfying than he could have ever imagined.

"You--you can't fucking say that. You're not allowed to say that. I've been nothing but fair to you. I've let you do whatever--"

"Exactly. I'm the fucked up one, Vegard, I know that. You know that. I ruined this. It was me. And I've tried, but I can't change that."

A quiver ghosts in Bård's voice. Molten sadness and icy anger come together inside Vegard and he doesn't know what to do with himself. It's not what he wanted to hear, it's not what he wanted to hear at all. Now that he knows, he would rather Bård had just said he was sick of him instead of this almost-there obstruction. Vegard doesn't say anything back and sits on the bed. He places himself on the other corner so he doesn't face him; he doesn't want to look at Bård while breath chokes in his throat. His hand covers his mouth and he closes his eyes against the storm within.

"You're killing me," he coughs out. "Do you know that? You're fucking killing me."

"I know." Bård sounds damaged and Vegard does his best not to wince. "I know I'm hurting you, I tried to stop. This is the only way I know how."

Vegard doesn't respond and they listen to one another's heavy breathing. Then trailing thoughts rouse Vegard from his pity. He shoots up, startling Bård, who he shouts at again.

"So what, we can't be together because you can't see me with anyone else? Then why don't we just stop working together. Why don't we stop seeing each other at all. If you love me, how can you see me with someone else when we're _not_ together either--what difference does it make? Fuck Ylvis, fuck money, fuck our careers, we'll just end it all because you can't fucking handle it."

When Vegard tries to walk away, Bård grabs his hand and stops him. Vegard looks down at his grasp. It's the second time Bård's done it in two days and he shouldn't be as surprised by it as he is. The gesture is so coded with familiarity and he meets Bård's gaze, anticipating the shocker blue he's become accustomed to. His brother has real tears in his eyes--not the conjured ones he learned how to produce when he was much younger and developing his cunning. It scares Vegard more than it should. This is supposed to be an argument; he wants to get angry and yell at him, because he needs to, because he deserves to be yelled at, but Bård is making it so hard when he won't fight back and instead just begs.

"Please, no, Vegard. Please. I can't do that. I can't do any of this, I can't live a normal life without you. I need you with me. Otherwise, I'd just--Oh god I can't breath."

Bård drops Vegard's hand and rubs his own over his face. Vegard disregards the choked sounds from his brother's throat and paces frustrated to the other side of the room.

"I don't want this," Bård calls. "I never wanted to feel this way. If I could wish it away I would." Vegard pauses where he faces the other wall, listening to Bård confess to his back. "But I can't. We're family. I could never just get rid of you. I can't just give you up."

"You know that's not true."

"Fine. I won't. Not completely."

Vegard lets his words sit, deciding what could be worth all the anger, sadness, and aching love he feels in this moment. He turns around, controlling his face and evening out his breaths.

"I'm so mad at you. I'm so, so fucking mad at you."

Bård swallows thickly and sniffs. He looks down at his hands for a moment, then lifts his head again. His eyes don't follow.

"Are you going to leave?" he asks.

Vegard doesn't respond, keeps looking at the carpet from where he's standing. He knows how he wants to answer.

"Are you going to leave?" he asks again. Bård's voice shakes a little, enough to mean he's past the point of embarrassment. Vegard spares a glance at him. He looks small and vulnerable, like when they were kids and he was afraid of something. Vegard sighs aloud.

"I don't know how. I'm trapped, I'm always trapped here with you. Even when I leave, even when I go home--when I close my eyes you're always fucking there."

Now Bård lets his brother's words hang there in the room. Vegard would keep confessing, showing how truly gone he is, how gone he always has been, since the very first time, but he knows it'll do nothing. When he looks at Bård again his chest is heaving and his face is obscured. It's been a long time since he's seen his brother cry but it still feels the same. And he can't bear it.

He walks, hesitancy in each step, to Bård and sits beside him on the bed. His hand smoothes up his back and rests on his neck, rubbing warming pressure in with the pads of his fingers.

"Hey. Easy." Bård keeps his head down, but Vegard can feel the shiver that runs through him. 

"Don't be nice to me, you're mad at me." Vegard sighs; he knows how insane it is, but fraternal override has its way.

"It doesn't matter. You're my brother, I can't watch you cry."

"Then don't look." Vegard pauses his motion at the fight in his voice. "You think I don't see you always looking at me? You think you're so innocent in this, but you never asked me to stay, and you never asked me to come back--you just look at me all the time like I'm supposed to just know something. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"But don't you know?" Vegard asks and Bård raises his head. "Don't you know that I would have done anything--I'll do whatever you ask if you would just look back."   

"I look back, I just never let you see." Bård's eyes crawl to Vegard's and he can finally see it--he can see it all. The years of wanting and not wanting and wanting not to want, and Bård's decision to punish them both for it. Vegard doesn't need to ask, he just knows. He leads his mouth to his brother's and starts it all over again. Bård responds in earnest and it's so much different from the night before. It feels a hundred times more real, and a million times more like they used to be. They weren't always sad and broken like they are now, but they were at least honest. Vegard wants to slow down but he can't, his heart is racing too fast and he can taste his brother's tears when he moves his mouth to his jaw and down his neck. Bård pulls him so tight to his chest it actually starts to hurt, and he doesn't care or regret the mistake he's making--his brother sees him and not a soul in the world could make him look away. 

 

 

 

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but the sun is still up when he wakes. The bed is empty again but Bård's not gone, he's standing at the wall-length window looking out at the city below. He's gotten himself half dressed again, boxers and a t-shirt, and Vegard wonders how long he's been standing there. He shuffles his body on the bed to sit upright, and Vegard sees the moment he betrays his wakefulness to his brother. Bård's head inches minimally to the right, but he stops himself and sighs. So nothing is really different, Vegard thinks. Coming together again doesn't fix things, if anything it just makes it more complicated. He knows his brother won't want to talk about it, and frankly Vegard is a little tired to go through with it too, but he meant it when he said he was going to hold him accountable. It doesn't matter if it will hurt them both.

Vegard gets up and puts on as much clothing as Bård, then goes to stand beside him at the window. He looks at the same sky as his brother and sees the clouds that are closing in. It will probably rain before the day is out. He stands there, counting breaths until Bård breaks the silence with muttered desperation. 

"What do I do? What do I do, Vegard?" His eyes do not move from the skyscrapers ahead but Vegard looks at his eyes anyway.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, I don't know." It's back to them both breathing, deciding, and Vegard wonders how he could have ever lived a life so easy once. Vegard knows what he wants, and he knows that Bård knows it too--all that's left is to seal their fates. Except Vegard's fate was sealed a long time ago, from the minute Bård was born, so to hell with it.   

"I'll leave it up to you," Vegard says, turning back to the window.

"What?" Bård looks at him, incredulous, and to be fair Vegard himself is a little surprised given all the fire he possessed earlier. But he's tired, he's worn by beaten love and he just wants his brother to damn them for good one way or the other.

"What do _you_ want Bård? Don't think about them, don't think about me, what do you want?"

"I don't know what I want."

"Do you want to go back to before," Vegard lowers his voice, trying to convey something gentle despite the awful words he will say. "Just pretend we're okay, pretend nothing has ever happened?" He slips his hand to the spot on Bård's hips where he gripped just recently--there were probably marks. "We can do that if it's what you want." Bård doesn't say anything, but Vegard can feel his skin heating up under his touch. "Do you want to try again?" He fails to keep the hope out of his voice.

"I don't know. I don't want anything. I don't want to feel anything anymore I just want it to stop." It sounds like a rejection to Vegard, and he drops his hand from his brother's side. He steps back just the smallest amount and reigns in his composure.

"Then I'll leave."

"That doesn't do anything," Bård hisses, and his irritation is back. "That doesn't make it stop, it makes it worse--how do you not understand that?" Bård pushes the heels of his palms over his eyes, holding them there and breathing hard. Vegard pauses, not knowing what to say or how to help him. "Anything I do, no matter what, makes it worse. It never ends."

"Then how do we make it stop?"

Bård keeps his eyes tucked away behind his hands, and Vegard wants to pull them back and kiss away his hurt. He is keenly aware that every ounce of contact will probably only harm his brother more, but even still he reaches out his hand to Bård's face. Before he can touch him, Bård lets his palms fall to his sides and it looks like a great storm has passed behind his eyes. His voice is hoarse and deadened like wet gravel. 

"I don't know." Bård's stare is unfocused and Vegard can see that he's checking out again, numbing himself to leave Vegard alone with the pain and the panic. Vegard has spent far too much time with Bård by his side but not completely there, and he won't do it anymore. He'll say and do what he needs to; the prospect of fighting _for_ instead of _with_ his brother excites him.

"Then I don't really care," Vegard concludes. Bård lifts his head and just as quickly he is called back to the present moment. "I don't know how to stop it, but I'm not letting you go." Vegard holds his gaze. "I don't care if it makes it worse." Bård bites his lip and breaks their stare. For a moment Vegard could have sworn he saw contentment in his eyes. But now the panicking is back, and Bård runs an unsteady hand through his hair, partially turning away from his brother.

"But how could that work? Where do we go?" Vegard grabs his wrist and lowers it to his side. His other hand slips to his neck and pulls his face to look at his. 

"Stop thinking about it. Just stay here, right now, with me."

Their faces get closer until their noses are nudging, and in Bård's silence he produces a nod, skin brushing against Vegard's. He connects their mouths and Bård reciprocates the gentle insistence that Vegard pours into him. He doesn't taste like tears this time, just the skin of the same man he's loved his entire life and even before. Vegard recalls their very first kiss, and how inhaling through Bård's mouth felt like the first time he'd ever took a breath. Bård drags his head back and digs his nails into his brother's arms that cling so tightly to him.  

"Please don't leave. I don't know what I can do but you can't leave." Bård won't promise him anything and Vegard knows as soon as they leave the room all bets are off again. There are no guarantees for or against his gut's fervent wish. The familiar ache drops inside him, and as his lips find his brother's he remembers to hope for mistakes. He thinks he can count on lapses of judgment for the rest of his life if it means he can do this even just one more time.   

"I won't." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my hand at a happy(??) ending, how'd I do?


End file.
